Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar Poems

Don’t try to win her heart.
Instead, try to win her head.
Once she lost her head,
She slips down to your tread.
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Being a beloved is like being imprisoned,
When you’re a precious jewel
Or your mate is a possessive royal
You are an imprisoned gel.
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Eyes, mouth, nose, ears, navel, nipple, groin,
And buttocks are all the lineaments
Of a woman that revert men’s attention.
Why? All have inlets to let in your passion.
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He fell in love with her in her middle age.
Since her puberty, how many, with a vantage,
Would have disturbed, pursued,
Excited, aroused and embarrassed her
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She knows that I love her.
She knows that I led her
To know that I love her.
She shows not her love.
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Venders are at door.
Why should she go out for shopping?
She can accept or reject.
A woman is adamant in love shopping.
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Cheep is she, who I can get.
But to get access, my pride forbids.
The other is worthy to befriend.
But to get her, her pride forbids.
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As a lad I had my eyes on every lass,
That never led me to believe then that
As an old, I would retain the same lustful eyes
To suffer humility at the hands of women.
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Is it because I am a Montague
And that you are a Capulet
That we seek for an outlet?
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